Author's infos

Introduction:

IT HAPPENED ONE NIGHT: A SERIES
One night, right in front of me, my folks fucked!

by Oediplex 8==3~

Series - included in this posting:
Saturday night - It Happened One Night:
Right in front of me, my folks fucked!

The next day - It Happened One Morning:
When mom made good on her hint.

Later, on Monday – It Happened One Afternoon:
Mom makes good on my hopes.

Finally on Friday – It Happened One Day:
Dad catches us, and things get even more interesting.

IT HAPPENED ONE NIGHT
Right in front of me my folks fucked!

Saturday night

I just got to write and tell you what happened last week. My mom and dad went out for a romantic dinner which they do occasionally. Leaving me at home to heat a frozen dinner. That was cool with me, as it allowed me to have the use of the big screen TV in the living room to watch a porn DVD. Life size fucking in front of me!

I work at construction, but this was Sunday night, so I didn't have to worry about getting to bed early and up at dawn. Of course I was going to jerk off. I was in my robe, just in case the folks came home early. I had some beers, and I guess I was more tired than I realized, because I fell asleep in the middle of the movie, before I actually jacked off. Those plots are dull.

I was awoken by the sound of soft laughter. The lights were still off except for one dimmed in the corner, on the end table next to the couch. It was my parents back from their evening out. But they didn't seem to realize I was sitting in the big easy chair. I was in the dark and if you didn't look directly at me I was not very visible. They were taking off their clothes standing by the couch!

Now I know enough in my twenty-three years what was about to happen. I should have stood up and excused myself and given them their privacy. But I hesitated. I could say that I didn't want to break the mood. It would have, but not for long, maybe they would have moved into their bedroom too. But the naughty little boy in me hoped I could get away with watching.

As I matured, in past years, of course sometimes I heard them groaning through their door. I even confess that on occasion I have stood and listen to the erotic cries of my mother cumming. Yes, it got me off. Dad's grunts were mundane, but mom's moans were music in my ears. She is a lovely, shapely, sexy brunette. I don't think about her that much, but sometimes after I catch the 'cum concert' I fantasize.

Now, it might happen with me in the room. I only had my robe on, that and a hard-on. As I watched in the dimmed light of that small lamp, they got naked. I knew they were about to get busy. If they caught on now, that I was in the room, I figured they'd stop. They might get mad that I hadn't said anything. Could I fake that I had been asleep? It seemed too late to bail, and I didn't want to. The risks were worth the rewards. What happened afterwards, I would have to just face the consequences and pay the penalty. So be it.

And now dimly I could see the naked body of my mother being stretched out on the sofa by my equally nude father. Their clothing a lumpy pile beside their feet. He lay atop her, they kissed and fondled each other, they were murmuring bed talk on the divan. Then dad was going down on mom! She spread her legs and bent her knees as he moved lower and put his face between her thighs. I wished the light was brighter!

That really got her motor running and she made little squeals of ecstasy. Not long went by before she was dragging him to her by the shoulders. She was ready, and obviously he was too, because he entered her quickly as he settle once more over her. Then the humping began, his hips rising and falling. Her arms went around his back and moved to his ass to clutch his cheeks and pull him in harder. Life size fucking in front of me! In front of me, my folks fucking!!!

My hand was around my dick and I was stroking to the rhythm they had. Mom's sighs were so sweet, they washed like waves in cadence, like the tide on the shore. Higher and higher, louder and longer, the tide was coming in, mother was cumming again and again. Their pace picked up as my father's climax approached. He was going to cum in mom. The clapping of their flesh slapped harder and faster. I had never had such a turned on moment as right then. I was close myself, we were all going to peak together!

At that moment, dad turned his head and saw me. He stared, but didn't stop. Mom must have caught that something was amiss in his expression. She looked in the same direction and saw what he did. Their son in the seat, beating his meat. I didn't know what to do, but automatically discontinued my masturbation, momentarily. It was a moment of frozen tableau. The three of us were intimately connected by our eyes.

My mother smiled, looked away, reached up and turned dad's face to hers. Put her hand on the back of his head, drew it next to hers so that they were face to face, and kissed him. “Don't stop now, just do it, Honey!” I heard her say. He obeyed with renewed vigor and in the next instant. I also returned to my self-administrations. Our syncopation was now smacking sound in stereo as one couple copulated and their kid clocked his cock with his fist.

Then the trio of cums cascaded, first mom, then dad, then me. Mom's began with rapid breathing that I could clearly hear, vocalizations of her gasps for breath. These became high pitched calls of her cumming, “UH! OH! AHH! EEHH! EEEE!! IYEEE!!!”, the last, like a wavering siren, was the trigger for both father and son. Voyeurism had never been so hot! Dad was grunting and groaning and thrusting hard and deep at her crotch. Her legs were pulled as wide as they could get, bent to give him every inch of access.

No doubt I made my own noises as my prick spewed jism, but I didn't register my own utterances. Since that was the first spout of the night, it was not just a spill of goo out the piss hole, but a veritable fountain that spouted and actually flew several inches up onto my chest. I don't often have that powerful a spasm, but I felt it from my asshole to the back of my head, as the contractions banged through my body. I wished, oh how I wished, that in the next minute, dad would say, 'Okay, son, why don't you take over and give your mother the next round of cums.” Or mom to say. “Now, Sweetie, it's your turn.”

Didn't happen. For a moment, we all had only the energy to pant and try to regain our wind and we sucked in oxygen to replenish our lungs. The sound of heavy breathing was all that could be heard. Then I did get a surprise. Dad lifted off and set back back, at the end of the couch and mom turned so her legs went back down to the floor. She reached up and switched on the other end lamp. On high.

In the brighter light I could clearly see her breasts, full boobs with small pink nipples that stuck way out. Her dark triangular bush was split by the rosy red of her cloven sex, she didn't even bother to hold her knees tight together. She was natural, like she had a gown on, but she was totally bare. She laughed at the stunned look my father had, as he absorbed this wild-weird scene. None of us had ever had any reason to think that we would have been involved in so crazy a menage together, but there we were! It was serendipity, it was sheer happenstance that the circumstances converged on our collective congress of cumming.

Regrets? Not me! Dad ? I guess he manned up, figured as long as mom wasn't freaked out, it wasn't the end of the world. Accidents happen, like walking in on somebody on the toilet. Only of course, this was rather much more intimate. And it was they who had walked in; but I had not left; they had been too far gone to stop by the time they saw me, so we all got our rocks off.

Mom? Here's the kicker, after her little laugh, she got up and walked over to me to kiss me goodnight, before she went to the bathroom and the folks retired to their bedroom. What dad couldn't see, because mom blocked his view as she bent over me, was that she Frenched me. As well, she reached down and gripped my penis and gave it a couple of strokes. Then she looked me straight in the eyes, before she turned and left the room. Her look had a message, I'm pretty sure I understood.

She was definitely telling me that she knew of my desire for her, especially after tonight. I'm pretty sure that she was letting me know that she found me sexy too. Possibly she was communicating that she had also felt an erotic connection shared from the evening's unexpected events. Most of all I hoped she was trying to get across, with out my father's knowing, that there might be something more between us. Later on, in private, and physical. I would have to wait and see. When dad wasn't around, I'd test the waters.

It Happened One Morning
When mom made good on her hint.

Next morning

Though I had fallen asleep quickly when I got to my room, with visions of 'sugar-moms' dancing in my head, I awoke early the next morn. I had a double woodie. I was horny with the usual male hormonal AM arousal and I was piss stiff too. So I threw on my robe real quick and went to relieved the hydraulic pressure. Or as my best buddy likes to say, leave a leak – as opposed to taking a piss. But while the erection was reduced, the sensitivity was still a potential of prospective self-gratification.

I considered perhaps a return to bed, and a rerun in my head of last night's incredible scene. It was fodder for fantasies for many moons to cum. But as I exited the bathroom I smelled coffee and instead proverbially followed my nose to the kitchen. Mom was up, dressed in her tattered old terrycloth robe and puttering around. She was singing to herself, obviously in a good mood. I wasn't quite sure how to speak about last night, so I mumbled a “Good morning”, and sat at the table. Best I thought to keep it low key.

I mean, you don't go babbling to your mother, “Gee mom, last night was really cool, watching you and dad fuck, when can we do it again? Huh? Huh?” Even though that is exactly the emotional reaction I was having in the more primitive parts of my gray ganglia. While the higher function was posing internally in my cortex, “I wonder if, in the light of day, momma will still feel the same way as she did last night when she French kissed me and fondled my dick.” This with a snooty British accent to my mind's ear, to pretend I was above being overly anxious about her reaction.

Yeah, right! I was as eager as my inner child could be for a trip to Fantasyland at Disney World; no make that Sexual-Adventureland at mommy-world! I was just that kind of hopeful, that what she had seem to convey; with that erotic smooch, intimate touch and promising direct gaze; was going to be fulfilled. When, was not an issue, as any time would be super-fine with me!! But I was unsure and even timid about how to broach the subject.

Mom came over and set a cup of brew before me, made exactly how I liked it. A normal motherly thing she typically did, dearest mom. Then she said, “Your father is sound asleep still, he'll be up late today. Last night I fucked his brains out when we got in bed.” Now, I was aware of mom's risque side, she wasn't above being earthy when she wanted to be. But she didn't show that aspect of her personality very often quite so bawdily. I liked it of course, it made her the more human and interesting a person. But now it also had the electrifying effect of revving up my libido.

“Did you get to sleep soon? Or were you UP . . reviewing the surprising events of earlier in the evening when you caught the floor show we provided?” Meaning, had I also been so charged up, that I needed to have another release, thinking about the spectacle I had serendipitously, though inadvertently, witnessed.

“No, I had a few beers last night and they went to my head. After the . . festivities . . were over, I was out like a light, when I hit the old sack.”

Your father thought he was too pooped to have another pop, but I showed him that I could provide a 'resurrection' to his limp lump and make it rise to the occasion, like a soldier coming to attention. I always had a way with privates.” She smirked with her smutty humor, and it evoked a bark of laugher from me. “Sshhh! You don't want to wake up your old man, let him snore it off. He had plenty of pussy last night, and now poor poppa really is pooped out!”

She was quite right, I wanted to have more time with mom alone. Especially since she seemed to be in a salacious, as well as mirthful mood. What next from this racy and coquettish creature that had once been the subdued homemaker mother of my youth? I wanted to encourage her to continue with her train of titillating talk. I was fascinated with the steamy spicy insights I was getting about her bedroom behavior with my paternal parent. However, I was floundering in my attempts to get a word in edgewise.

She place a plate of toast and the jelly jar on the table by me, along with the margarine container. As she bent down I glance at the divide of her robe and only espied her skin. She saw where I was glancing and smiled. “Dear? Do you have anything on under your robe?”

“Um, Nuh-uh” was my less than brilliant garbled grunting.

She bent again and at my ear, she whispered with hot breath turning me on, “Neither do I!” Then to my astonishment, she stood, backed a step, and parting the drab housecoat flashed me, to prove it! I saw the dark delta of pubic fur, and the slightly pendulous pair of breasts, the perky pink nips popped out exactly like last night! What a sight! What a delight! What a woman, what a mom, to be so saucy for her son's saucer-wide eyes, so that I was blessed by the vision of her in the altogether. It was, to refrain the term, altogether an astounding display and made my day – shit it made my week!

Mom closed the sides of the garment again and walked over to the nook between the refrigerator and cabinets, a space of about three feet square. It happened to be the once place in the kitchen that was hidden from either of the doorways, until you had walked several steps into the room. I didn't think about that fact until later, but in retrospect of what shameless shenanigan mom pulled next, it was wise and cautious. She went to there and winsomely wheedled, “I can't reach it, could you come here?” How many times had I provide the benefit of my stretched out stature to help mom acquire an item form the top cupboard?

“What do you need?” I asked as I went to help her.

But imagine my surprise then, when what she wanted to reach was below the level of my waist. In fact, it was exactly at the height of my crotch. It was my prick, which mom grabbed through the separation of my robe. “This!” she said with a little laugh as she gained hold of my tumescent trunk, which responded with rapid turgid swelling and pointed in her direction, like a sex compass needle.

“I hope you're getting the idea of how hot our chance erotic threesome last night, made your mama? God, seeing you beat your meat while your dad socked it to me was one of the most,” she squinted her eyes and looking in my face made me get the point of her earnestness, “very most exciting sessions of sex I ever had.”

With that statement, she let go of my rod and spreading her gown once more, loosened mine as well; and the next thing I know she has her hands in my robe, around my back, and is pulling our naked bodies tight together! My rigid pole was crushed between us poking on her mons. My chest was pressed against her breasts. She looked up and me, I knew to kiss her. Then, after a few mouth mish-mushings, I Frenched her. My dick was hunching through her pubic hair and I was ready to put it to her. I felt my head balloon with lust, I was suddenly very warm all over.

The moment could not have lasted but a few minutes, but time was stopped while we were locking lips and learning we were going to be lovers. Imagine my disappointment when she broke away and pushed me back a little. But that was for a good purpose. “It's too dangerous here. Get some dirty towels and meet me in the laundry room downstairs.”

“I'm not sure there are enough used towels for a load.”

“Then add some clean ones and come there in a few minutes, that's not really the point, is it?”

I did as I was bid. When I arrived mom was sitting up on the dryer. The robe was wide, as were her legs. I dumped the alibi in a heap by her dangling feet and knelt on the pile. Some things are obvious. I planted my puss in her pussy and proceeded to munch on my mom. She rolled her pelvis to give me full access from her ass to her clit. My experience with girls and cunnilingus was not extensive but satisfactory enough that mother made the same sort of mews as I had heard her give out on the sofa last night. As things went from bad to even naughtier, I thought that she was ready. But her hip were too high for me to plug in.

She had another idea however, for the next phase of our fun. She had me hop on the washer, while she slid off the other machine and spun to stand in front of me and engulfed my member with an appetite of a hot-dog hog, at a pig-out contest. She had suction and tongue swirls to a science. Ball cradling and even the tip of her finger in my anus. That was new! She brought me to the brink and stopped me from shooting with a squeeze of a nerve I didn't even know I had. Amazing . . . no wonder she had given dad a second wind, when she knew how to play piccolo with a man's peter and call the tune.

Mom had just turned around and was bending over the dryer, for our concluding coupling, when we hear the water running in the pipes. Someone upstairs had flushed, that meant dad was up and so was our time to play. For now. Mom turned to me and gave me a quick kiss, jacked on my cock like last night for brief seconds. She said, with double meaning, “It's going to get wet tomorrow afternoon, I imagine that you'll be home in the afternoon.” Then she tied her robe and bounced upstairs with a giggle, like a school girl with a secret.

Indeed, the weather forecast was for showers on Monday afternoon. That would end my work early on the outside building site I was involved with. I would be at the house hours before dad arrived. Mom had the place where I would find myself most welcome, and I'd cum in that humid haven. When it's wet, there's no place like being home with mother. I picked up the towels and put them in the washer. Tonight was going to be lonely, no doubt I'd need a few cold showers; but inside for the next day, the forecast was sonny and steamy.

It Happened One Afternoon
Mom makes good on my hopes.

Monday afternoon it rained

As lonely (bereft of female companionship) and as horny (with what had happened in the last twenty-four hours) as I was Sunday night, I still did not jerk-off. I had learned from experience that there was a point of diminishing returns on sexual abstinence, but a good long day was enough to fully reload your sex-pistol.

I had at least two, maybe three shots of semen saved to shoot home in mom's pussy, as she promised. To remind me of our assignation in the afternoon and as a booster to my virility, or at least my reservoir of jism, she left me an envelope on my pillow that night. Lumpy, inside it were two rather large pills. Her note read, 'Take these vitamin B capsules in the morning for best effect for the afternoon's activities.' I gulped them down with my orange juice in the AM before I went to my construction job.

With work hours being truncated by foul weather as predicted, I was not depleted of energy by the time I arrived back at our house. Sure enough, my mother was waiting for me when I came into the mud room from the garage. She had a cold beer for me as I took off my boots. She tongue kissed me with a lover's promise of more intimacy. “Take a quick shower. When you're done, I'll be waiting in your room.” she instructed.

I was stripping even as I was on my way past her. Just as pre-dick-ed, mom was sitting on the side of my bed when I returned from the shower. I was starkers, though mom had her robe on. She patted the bed indicating I should perch beside her. A quick peck on the lips and a fast pull on my pecker reassured me that things were about to get steamy for sonny. “Tom, do you remember what happened on your eighteenth birthday?” she asked sweetly.

“You said we would talk about it.” (Mom had walked in on me masturbating, when everybody was waiting down at the dinner table. She had come to see what was holding me up. She saw me holding my upright member and cumming. She told me to hurry in dressing. People were expecting me downstairs. Later, when she tried to talk to me about it, I had been so mortified by embarrassment of my mom seeing me ejaculate, I asked her to never ever speak about it again.)

“And we haven't, but your twenty-three now.”

“I guess it's not such a big deal, now that I'm more mature.”

“Mama likes to role-play sometimes. What if that happened when you were twenty-one?”

“I think I could have handled the situation at that age.'

“Two days ago, was an even more memorable muddle of moral mix-up!”

“That's true!” I had to laugh at the obvious irony.

“Well . . . could we pretend that I came into your room one night when you were eighteen, in the same . . straits, as it were, and instead of demurely withdrawing, stayed to admire the view?”

“Whatever makes you happy, mom.” (Whatever got me into her panties, though I was pretty sure she again had nothing on under her robe.

“Now that's an attitude I always am pleased to get from my boy.”

“If only all my chores were so pleasurable to perform!”

“Touche'! Now stretch out on the bed, just like you were back then.” I did so with my back propped up on the headboard. “I have come in and discovered my eighteen year old son yanking on his poor abused peter. While not proper, yet he proposes I may stay and observe the fun. This is an offer that I cannot turn down, as I have had a secret desire to observe him in his erect state for sometime, ever since – you know when!”

I smiled, as I did know, and now I could let her have her wish. The other evening she (and dad) were providing me with the 'entertainment' and mom had been focused on what they were doing, even though she had obviously seen what I was doing. Now she could view my self-gratification at her leisure. Though I doubted it would allowed to finish, the Scottish blood in her veins would be loath to waste precious resources. She would make sure the cream would be saved for the churning done in her buttery depths. So I used a light touch and slow hand to manipulate my manhood, while she watched with a smug smile all the while.

Not long went by, before the lady that lounged at my side reached for the lance of the knight that was her new lover, and began to stroke the special spear. This was an art she had mastered as well, and my staff's stiffness was not abated but rather made more rampant and randy. I in turn reached out, as if in a scene from the classic with Kay Parker, and fondled mom's boobs, then sought her crack at the juncture of her legs. Her thighs separated as best she could and my digits felt the dewy opening in the downy fleece of her delta.

Such manipulations on both our parts, of each other's personal parts, prompted a change of status. No longer settling for fingering foreplay, my mother rose up to straddle my middle. Mindful of her gown – that is to say I minded it being on, wanting her as naked as myself – I drew off the terrycloth garment and let it slide to the side. Mom continued contact with my cock and directed the delicate instrument to the tender tissues of her sheath. Then she sank ever so slowly upon the shaft of her son and sighed contented to be filled full with the filial flagpole and fulfilled our shared fantasy.

The role-playing was no longer the point, now that my prick was properly penetrating mother's pussy. She rolled to and fro, undulating on top of me, her soft mammalian udders I utterly adored as they swayed across my chest. Her nipples, little rubbery protrusions exquisitely scraped the length of my pects up and down. Meanwhile, the incredible sensation of slick, hot, tightness tortured my dick, with increasing ferocity. The fucking was first class. None of the 'almost break your prick off' kind of roughness, none of the ball-busting banging down that some gals slammed.

Mom knew just how to settle in the seat when she sat, so that my shank sank within her body as if it were a violin bow stroking a Stradivarius. That was beautiful music. Nor did she allow the flute to flip out at the high water-mark when she rose to begin the cycle once more, and our rhythm built surely and steadily to its inevitable crescendo. Eventually she lifted her posture so that she was more vertical, though the seeming effortlessness of her movements never changed their gracefulness. She moved like it was a single flowing motion, the dolphins dancing upon the waves.

But I could not be that smooth or controlled when the urgency of my climax was pressing the paroxysm to its peak. I clutched her hips and began to pound my peter into her tummy, desperate now to try to drum my mad manic demand that our screwing gallop to its conclusion in mutual orgasms. Mother caught the fever of my frenzy, from the faster flailing at her crotch. The crashing of our flesh sounding out the beat of amplified passion. She matched me, and my hips rose to meet hers as she rode my meat, socking it to her center in sync.

Then the sweet cum came on so strong that my penis throbbed with pulses that went on even after I was drained of the last drops of goo it could give. That first burst of the billowing-bubbling lotion spitting from my tip touched her uterus and signaled the most significant cum in my life. I just had to jam my cock in her cunt and try to hold it as far-up / in-deep as able, because I could not help my instinctive impulse to have my mate conceive.

Fortunately that was beyond possibility, or at least probability (it wouldn't be a virgin birth) though nothing is absolutely certain. There are miracles; but mom had had her tubes tied, so it was reasonable that I wouldn't be propagating any progeny, what awful offspring that would bring! Boy would that be a bummer of a baby, to sire such a son. Brother would that be a downer, to father a daughter, who's also your sister, with whom you had sibling rivalry! Not too good, so you see, to beget what you'd regret. 'Nuf said?

But back to the dream cream in mom. Mother as well, ripped a royal set of contractions in her climax, the convulsions of her vulva felt from feet to skull. If my physiology is imprecise, it is because I lack the poetry to convey those cataclysmic claps of clasping grasps her vagina gripped me with, as we were joyously joined at the groin grinding our genitals together.

Just how do you describe the grandest fuck (until then, but later topped with her below me) that you ever had in your young life. Give me a break, it was a goddamn super screw, we had a hell of a cum and it was heaven being inside my own mother when we came at the same time – mundanely depicting the magnificent incestuous sin our union was, would be immoral.

Be that as it may, it was wonderful fun.

Nor were we done! After a well deserved respite to recover our breath, recoup our energy and for both of us to quaff a beer; we were re-engaged in our quest to frolic. 'Til the father came home, or shortly before, so that he wouldn't catch us and have a cow, that was a beast we could do without in the house. Yet that bomb was to be nonetheless dropped later – if you saw the previews, for the next installment. Meanwhile, mom and her son, meaning me of course, were head-over-heals . .er . . more like mouths-to-middles in a sixty-nine configuration that provided a terrific transition to the next phase of our frisky free-for-all fucking.

Mom was popping multiples of orgasms as I made love to her muff and stuff, but I was not ready for the next spasm of my well worn willie. But when we switched to positioning ourselves for the second insertion, that got the hairy balls rolling. I began giving mommy what I term the Tommy gun; rapid fire, large caliber rounds of ammo, a Valentine Day's massacre of cunt by a killer cock. Corny, but when I'm horny, I pour on the hot lead in bed and the babes are dyin' for it. To do this feat of fornication, I take the dominate position over the supine partner. Or if you will, the classical missionary position. Not bragging, but when we go at it that way, the gals haven't got a prayer, though they find themselves begging for more.

Mom liked it that's for sure. I plowed into her furrow with my fresh enthusiasm for doing the dirty. Her legs were cradling her baby boy, all man and boffing her with my beefy salami. I felt like the conquering hero, returned home victorious and now reaping the rewards offered by his welcoming woman. The slide of my dick was slow, then quick, varied and her vagina was voracious in gobbling it into her cunny. My back began to feel the strain of stabbing my manhood in that way. So I scooted up and had her hips high, the legs lifted so that her knees were nearly next to her head. With better leverage I was able gain good ground in plunging my pleasure sword in her scalding scabbard; my nuts knocking on her ass as I beat my plowshare into the womanhood of the one who had given me birth.

Make love not war, and there was no greater peace than being in my mom's womb, the pussy that surpasses all other piece of ass. But as I was barging into her beautiful bottom with my battering ram, I was approaching the point of no return. Once more I was tilting over, about to topple down the mountain of mounting momma, and off the cliff of climax, into the abyss of bliss. But before I had quite passed that promontory of priapic petrification of paroxysm's perfection, (you know – when you freeze up because the cum is so powerful all your muscles stiffen like you have living rigor mortis) right then mom literally screamed when she beat me to the punch by blowing her voluble siren, her vocal shriek of vented satiation.

Hearing that wild wail sent an electric zinging running up my spine, ricocheted around my brain and back down again, round the bend to my penetrating prick and right out the hole as if it were a ski jump of jism. Jeez! What a thrill to make your mother cum so hard she blast your eardrums numb with the cry of her orgasm exploding. Then to prove your ultimate love, and long held lust to your lovely and lascivious lady, by letting her have that potent lotion that pours out again and again in the ecstasy that is near agony in its intensity.

It's like simultaneously holding your breath until your lungs are about to burst, while holding your palm over a flame as the pain gets worse and worse, at the same time having to hold in diarrhea that threatens to flood from your asshole in a jet of wet shit – but the opposite. It's a relief, release and relaxation all at once, but a very very good feeling; not bad, not painful, not twisting your guts; wonderful and sweet, if too sudden and all to swiftly over, even so. But understand, what to cum in mum is, is to spend yourself within her eager receptive and loving body. She was joyfully pleased with the gift of physical reunion with her child, grown to adulthood and loyally devoted to her. That gift to her, her openness to you, that bonding; it something that goes beyond special, above just great sex, it extends into the spiritual realm.

All of which is trying to say, it's really fabulous to lay your mother. To echo my thoughts of earlier, not so long ago; “Gee mom, last time was really cool, when you and me fucked, when can we do it again? Huh? Huh?” I didn't exactly use those words, but close. Mom laughed and kissed me, reached down and held my now limp and slimy package, gave it an affection it squeeze, “Why we'll just have to watch the weather report. But now showers are forecast for the immediate future, before the Norman comes stormin' in from his job and gets jealous. So better get washed up lightning fast, so no thundering peals from your father follow, and if he gets wind of this, that's what might happen. Then all hail might break loose. However, sonny, you really shone today, cloudy though it might otherwise outdoors have been. Don't worry, the sheets of rain, and your reign in my sheets, shall cum again, and again, soon enough.”

She was right as rain!

It Happened One Day
Dad catches us, and things get even more interesting.

Friday it rained all day

When I awoke on Friday morning, the storm due Saturday had moved in early, as will sometimes happen. 'Yeah! A whole day fucking mom!' I thought. But it was not to be so. Yes, I was not going out to the construction site, but I was going to be working at home – housework!

Just as unexpectedly mother had gotten a call from old friends she and dad knew, who were in town this weekend, though it was fuzzy from where and when their association had been. When I asked, mother was vague, almost evasive about the details. They were delighted to accept the invitation to dinner Saturday night that mom extended.

Which means we had today to clean. Mom would shop and run errands and cook tomorrow. Instead of nailing boards and laying bricks, or nailing mama and getting laid, I was vacuuming and helping mom straightening up. Not the sucking and 'straighting' up with mom I had imagined initially.

Finally, (I won't bore you with the describing the chores) we were able to get to relax, it was only early afternoon, so mom suggested a shower and then some recreation. ONE shower, for the both, and the sort of fun I had envisioned and hoped for on rolling out of bed. Now we were going to do another sort of cleaning and have a roll in the hay. Yeah! After all!

Now, I have showered with a friend (with benefits) before this, but being in the spray with my own mother had a special sort of spectacular effect on my libido. I had this tightening in the back of my head, like when I get super excited after viewing a lot of porn, and am ready to start jacking any minute. It was like that feeling the whole time we were in the stall.

Of course the slippy-sliddy soapy sensuous hands on everything / everywhere / all the time was a mutual activity. Shampooing and sudsing as such were useful, but my fingers in mom's pussy was the finer of the frolicking. I cleaned her clock, if you will, she climaxed a couple of times. She washed my cock, but we saved the jism for when I was jammin' her genitals. What a wonderful way to enjoy each other. It's a wonder washing facilities are not made larger and given padded floors. I guess hot-tubs cornered the market, but it's a concept, ain't it?

When mom toweled my hair, it reminded me of when I was a kid. I always loved that particular attention. But I'm not a kid and more and when she dried my middle, my member was at attention. This time we went straight to my folks bedroom and began our foreplay. It does help to have a broad mattress to frolic upon. Mom pounced on the bed like a little kid, flouncing down and bouncing up to flip over on to her back. I smoothly stretched beside her prone figure, the both of us on a sort of diagonal orientation, as I went to kiss her she tickled me on my side at the waist – you know the spot – she poked and I responded with a spasm.

Then we did something that we had not engaged in for over thirteen years, had a 'tickle-tussle'. I was more of a contender now than at ten, having gained reach and height which put me more equal to mom in this cockamamie combat than when I was a kid. In no time the nicely made bed was mussed with the wrestling and gamboling of our silly, yet sensuous nonsense. But soon my touches were in sensitive places, that were less tickly and more erogenous. Kisses were interspersed with caresses from the both of us and the contest turned into outright foreplay. Now we were working to turn the other on; not that we weren't already riled and ready to to have a raunchy rumpus right then and there!

My fingers found her slit, slick and hot and she moaned her pleasure, as my diddling digits played in her delta. The button of her clit was popped out for easy access and her labia were swollen with a rosy hue from the excitement. She likewise was having her manipulative fun with my firm member in her grip and she also coddled my cockles hanging heavy with a load to exploded – go boom in her womb. I'm not quite sure how it happened, but we transitioned from feeling each other up to fucking, so that we were side by side and I was inserting my dick in her pussy that way.

After some minutes of this awkward engagement, with not enough body contact and less leverage for connecting, mom pulled me over on top and spread her thighs. But the way we were headed was our feet to the headboard and visa versa. I didn't care, because I was screwing mom again. Her legs wrapped around me, heals on my butt to spur me on to ram my prick into her soft center. Tight too, as she used those internal muscles to clench my manhood and make the experience superlative. I was really socking it to her, she gave out with her signature siren of high pitched calls of her cumming, “UH! OH! MMM! AHH! EEayYAHH! EEE!! IYEEE!!!”. I was getting ready to inject her with a mighty blast.

I lifted my head up and froze – not like that time I described before, in the paralysis of orgasm, but in shock and fear. In the open door, which we had not bothered to close, stood my father. I didn't know how long he had been there, it could have only been seconds. Mother's climax was still ringing in my ears as I looked straight into my father's face and wondered if he would kill me or simply disown me and send me out on my own. Mother could see by my expression that something was up, or amiss. My father saw that I was up his Mrs., and she was loving it.

“Dad!”

Mom turned her head as best she could to view him. We sort of rolled, so that I was on the side of the bed furtherest away from my paternal parent, and my maternal mistress got to her feet to face him on the closer side. We stood as statues in a tableau, somewhat of a repeat of the first instance of paralysis for our triangle of intimacy a few nights ago. This time though, it was I, not pop, who had been boffing mom; would the outcome be so amicable? I doubted it. But once more I was surprised. Mom walked over to dad. “Your home early, Dear? How was the office?” She undid his tie and took it off. “Did you have a hard day?” She unbutton his shirt. I just stood there. “I have some news for you!”

My old man was a bit nonchalant, which made me nonplussed, when he calmly answered, “This is not news, that you two have the hots for one another.”

Mother continued to undress him as she talked, working on his belt buckle. “No, I mean that the Thompsons are back in town this weekend, I invited them over for tomorrow night.”

“Betty and Jack?” her husband asked.

“Do you know of any other Thompsons?” said his wife, undoing his zipper and making sure his trousers puddled at his ankles. Then he was helping her get the rest of his clothes off. I was confused – so who were the Thompsons anyway? Why wasn't dad pissed at me boinking his spouse? What did he mean, 'not news, that you two have the hots for one another', it wasn't? What did he know? And mother was calm in the face of her infidelity with her own son being discovered by her spouse! How was that? What was going on? What was coming off was my father's boxers as the last garment, revealing a huge hard-on.

“Who are Betty and Jack?” I asked, finding my voice.

“London Bridge.” said my father to my mother, ignoring my question. Mom didn't reply, but went to the bed followed close by my father. She got on hands and knees on the pad and he got behind her as she crawled up and put his cock right sock into her cunt. She grinned and gave a little groan/moan. But then she motioned me closer. Mom indicated that I was to get on the edge. I knelt facing her as she directed me to. She reached over and took my soggy meat in her mouth, it began to regain its former turgid condition as she sucked, and I watched my father fuck her. I felt the tumescence and the tightening feeling in the back of my neck once more.

Now the wheel seemed to have gone a full turn from the other night, the two of them having sex in my view as I masturbated; to the three of us engaged in a menage of an even more intimate sinful trinity. Who was I to object? I thought this was a much more happy outcome than me getting my ass kicked for having a piece of mom's tail. Dad was now bopping that bottom with his boner while mom feasted on my frankfurter. As we made unseemly family history, instead of making a scene with domestic hysteria, over the consanguine scandal; my father began to speak to me finally and frankly.

“This is London Bridge, really the Tower bridge, but the one you think of spanning the Thames.” I got it, he and I were the towers and mom the 'bridge'. It was a position for a threesome. “Betty and James Thompson are a couple we knew from a while back when we were part of a . . club. A key club, or a sort of swap-meet. Sometimes we might have them over here, when you were younger. Or when you went to camp in the summer. But more often we would visit them, before they moved.”

“We were quite close, as couples.” he continued, “quite close, they are both very attractive people. I think you ought to plan to have dinner with us tomorrow night. Instead of our having to hide our activities from you, perhaps you might like to participate: seeing how you have now entered . . . your mother . . . and your mother's circle of 'special familiarity', especially since your family!”

Dad was beginning to get a real rocking rhythm, that translated through mom's body, so that all three of us, we were on the same beat. He would push at his wife's split, she would swallow half my penis or more, as I stroked into her oral orifice, then she would back into his ramming rod and so our syncopation proceeded as pop expounded further, while pounding into mom's rear. “I knew that you had a thing for your mom for some years now, I saw the way you ogled her in her bathing suit or if she was just in something scanty around the house. I think she was aware of it too, but we never discussed it.”

“Then with what happened the other night, I knew that was a real treat for you, to see us going at it. I knew that Miriam didn't mind having an audience, since in our wilder days that happened when we shared our lovemaking with another couple and would switch back and forth, and worked various combinations. (OH! Orgies! I thought.) And when she was so hot, even after we had finished on the couch, that had to be some sort of pent up lust. Then you two have been so cautious as to not have any obvious erotic contact, even though she had given you a kiss and toggled your boy-toy the other evening, trying to hide it from me. But I saw her elbow move and I knew that motion and what it meant.”

“So since it rained today and I knew you would likely be staying at home, I though I might get off early and come home and see what was up. I didn't expect to catch you in flagrante delicto, but I'm glad I did, as that resolves things so that we don't need to keep secrets about what is going on now, or with the Thompsons coming, about our past activities. AND I and cumming now!!” With that he started to bang on mom's buns so hard that she had to stop giving me head, lest she bite on my sausage. Mom grunted as she also had a small orgasm with his climax.

Mom swiveled around as soon as dad disconnected, his willie now a wimpie-limpie noodle. She turned and with her legs bent and spread offered me the target of her femininity for me to fill, even as my father's cream spilled out. I wasted no time in plugging in with my own plunger, churning chugging away within that frothy hole. It was sloppy thirds, but she was doing the muscle clenching, her lubrication only made the channel all the slipperier, so I had a good chute to shoot into, which the priming of earlier, and her mouthing had kept the rifle ready. All the while I had witnessed once more the love making of my folks forthrightly in front of me, I was ready for my trigger to be pulled.

I had lost track of where dad was as I was laying into my mother. I felt her grasp my ass cheeks and spread them. “Darling. She whispered to my ear, “don't be alarmed, but let's see how you like this?” I was momentarily puzzled by her words, when I felt a finger at my anus. Before I could say yea or nay or hey!, he had his middle-finger two knuckles up my back-door. It was so wild that I didn't have time to even think about whether I liked it or not; I blasted in mom my pent up load. With that she let herself be carried away into her own ecstatic wave of pleasure.

Dad retreated to the bathroom, we heard him 'leave a leak'; then the water running as he washed his hands. Mom smiled at me still connected to her, abet loosely. “Don't let Jack Thompson sneak up behind you, or you'll get something a lot larger than a finger up your wahzoo!” Dad laughed coming back into the bedroom. He evidently had turned his back on his comrade in debauchery and discovered Jack's proclivity for swinging both ways. If pop liked it I had no idea; but for me, the finger had been an interesting, if quite surprising, introduction to anal stimulation during intercourse. I did get off, I admit.

Mom had to pee next and dad picked up his heap of discarded clothes. He spoke to me, man to man, and father to son as well. “If you don't like that, that's fine, just make sure that Jack understands that. I have a question. Is this the first time you and your mom got it on?”

“Actually, we first made love on Monday afternoon.”

“I thought I might catch you at it Sunday morning, when I pretended to sleep late. But I had to piss, and flushed by habit, though I didn't mean to. When your mom came up from the basement smiling, I thought I had missed my opportunity. I'm glad that I did get to see you both in action, you're not the only voyeur in the family!”

Mom came back just then and she laughed. “I think that's why we got the big screen TV, so your father could get dirty DVDs and we could screw watching, like if we were still swingers.”

“I can't believe that you guys swapped with other couples. Did you do it a lot?”

“For a while it was fun, but then the novelty wore somewhat thin, but the Thompsons were our favorites. We did more with them when we stopped doing the key parties. You'll hear lots about the old days, and your parents crazy ways, tomorrow at dinner.” mom explained.

“We have wine, you don't have to go out, or we could wait until you got back . . .” Mother used her teasing tone that meant that she knew the answer already.

“You are a minx, my marvelous mate, and I don't doubt that you wouldn't want to miss getting a quicky in while I was out. Wine is fine.” My father declared. Then he took his bride in his arms and stroked her pussy. I came over and made her a sandwich between us, my prick once more elevated and pushed into the divide of mom's delicious derri?. My father began to nudge her from the front with his dick and kissed her. I kissed her cheek, as she turned her head toward me.

“Oh, Betty is going to be thrilled to have you playing with our foursome,” she giggled, “you won't be a fifth wheel, you be a third axle!” I was starting to get peckish myself now, thinking about pizza, but then mom began so sing softly, “London Bridges, going down, going down . .” and she did on dad, with her tush pushed back at me for obvious reasons. I was ready to be a London bridge tower again, as I put my cockney in my queen. I guess we were bridging the generation gap too!